


Sweet, Like Sugar Venom

by ALoza



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Beta everyone else, Bottom!Stiles, Jealousy, M/M, Mates, Mpreg, Multi, Omega Verse, Omega!Stiles, Omegaverse, Possessive Behavior, Protective packmates, Top everyone else, Unrequited Love, alpha!Derek, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-10 02:01:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALoza/pseuds/ALoza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is an omega, and everyone has their way with him during his first heat. Maybe having unprotected sex with his packmates wasn't such a good idea after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Driving in Cars with Boys

**Author's Note:**

> I love mpreg with every ounce of my body. I wanted to write one, so here we go.  
> Also, chapter names are just the song I'm listening to while I write.

They all take turns; Stiles is spent on the bed, eyes rolling to the back of his head, heat burning through his body in tremors. Isaac goes first, kissing Stiles silly, breathless, fingers buried knuckle-deep inside of the omega. 

Stiles groans into Isaac’s mouth, digging his blunt nails into the were’s back. 

“Please,” Stiles whimpers, “please...fuck...fuck me.”

Isaac laughs airily, but obliges, pushing the head of his cock into Stiles’ pulsing body. He’s tight, almost unbearably tight, and he gasps as Stiles’ hole swallows his full length. He grunts into Stiles’ ear, nibbling on the lobe, feeling fire build in the pit of his stomach. 

He comes too quickly, presses his body even closer and he spills his seed, flooding the omega's insides. 

And then Jackson’s hovering over him, and Stiles is too horny to care that Whittemore has his tongue down his throat and is rutting into his pliant body, using Isaac’s come as lubricant. He’s gasping, whispering filthy words into Stiles’ ear, “You’re so fucking tight,” “Fuck, Stiles, baby, you’re perfect,” “So fucking beautiful, so soft,” “Your goddamn mouth”. He admits that he always thought Stiles was beautiful, that his was the first face he jerked off to in the sixth grade, that his vision whited out when he came. 

When he comes, it’s loudly, nails grating down Stiles’ sides, marking him. 

Stiles recognizes Scott’s body wash, and he feels a little strange having his best friend, his brother, fuck him. But Scott is good and his movements are fluid and experienced and tender. He nuzzles into Stiles’ throat, engulfing his flowery sweet omega scent. He whines in the back of his throat and has to stop himself from biting him. This is Stiles. His best friend. He shouldn’t want this so badly, but relief floods his system, singing like a chorus, when he comes into his scorching canal. 

He kisses Stiles once, sweetly, softly, gently, lingering, too personal, like someone would kiss their lover. And maybe Stiles is his first love, but he has Allison, and this is wrong, but tasting Stiles’ lips is so right it aches that he won’t be able to do this again. 

Boyd is careful as he lifts Stiles’ weak body; he feels like a baby bird in his giant hands. He closes his hands around Stiles hips and lowers him onto his cock. Stiles’ breath hitches, because Boyd is huge, and thick, and even with his heat, it feels like he’s splitting in half, but it’s so delicious he can’t bring himself to care. Boyd rocks him up and down his lap, lips fastened to the omega’s pulse, feeling the beat of his heart in his mouth. 

He remembers when he first saw Stiles, the gawky white boy in his freshman PE class. He remembers how cute he was in his gym clothes that were too big; his fingers were too long, his eyes too big, lips too full, cheeks too rosy; he was too perfect, and in that second, he fell in love with him. He’d watch him practice lacrosse with McCall, watch the other betas in his class gaze lustfully at his perfectly round ass, and he’d stew in his jealousy. 

And now, he had him writhing above him, buried deep inside of his body, slowly thrusting upwards, nudging his prostate. Stiles bit his lip and sobbed, reaching out and grasping Boyd’s strong shoulders to keep him leveled. 

“Fuck,” Stiles breathes, “so big...so...good.”

Boyd feels Stiles clench around him, muscles gripping his cock mercilessly, milking him for all he’s worth. He groans, silencing the obscene flurry of words pouring from Stiles’ red-bitten mouth with a languid kiss. He comes, and comes, load after load ripping his orgasm from him until he’s completely spent, letting Stiles’ wrecked body sag on him. 

And then he’s gone, taken away by Derek, their Alpha. He growls at them, and the four boys leave, each feeling a sting of resentment towards their leader, knowing that he’ll have Stiles for the rest of the night, fucking him blind and deaf, voiceless and utterly gone. 

Derek has Stiles on his back and watches come spill from his puckering, red hole. He fingers him gently, knowing there’s no point, that Stiles should be loose enough to take his knot, but he likes how the boy clenches so wonderfully around his fingers. But even after four betas, he’s still tight, and his heat is burning, no where near being sated. 

Stiles recognizes his scent, the musky, woodsy smell of an alpha, and he whimpers wantonly, “Dereeeek, please, I need you.” His voice is small and tinny. “Knot...alpha, please. Knot me. I need it, I need you.”

Derek growls and presses a kiss on Stiles inner thigh, “Say my name.”

Stiles gasps, short and breathless, “Derek, please.”

There are tears in his eyes and Derek can feel how hot his blood is, burning through his veins like a train engine. His skin is practically sizzling.

Stiles is almost uncomfortably hot when Derek pushes into his body. Stiles squeezes around his cock and Derek swears, gripping the omega’s hips roughly. 

“Wait,” Derek barks, and Stiles whines. 

He pauses, long enough to catch his breath, before setting a punishing rhythm; Stiles screams, because it’s better than he expected, much better. Derek is big, like Boyd; fucks with finesse like Scott; holds him tightly, like Jackson; and is playful, like Isaac. It’s almost too much, sensory overload, and Stiles feels his vision start blurring.

It’s like Derek wants to be deep inside of him, a part of body, buried beneath his skin, breathing in the flowery pheromones of his heat. Stiles’ mouth water and he wants to know how Derek tastes, what his lips feel like, how good he is at kissing, if he can swallow down the length of his cock. He knows it’s gross, but he wants to taste the mixture of come Derek’s using to fuck him with. It’ll be sweet, like Isaac, salty like Boyd, and slightly bitter like Scott and Jackson. 

“Harder,” Stiles pleads. 

Derek grunts, and lifts Stiles’ legs and places them on his shoulder; it’s the perfect angle, cause soon Stiles is sobbing as he beats into his prostate. 

“I love you,” Derek blurts, the heat from Stiles’ body nearly boiling his brain.

Stiles nods, “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.”

With that, instinct takes control, the wolf rising to the surface, and Derek plunges his fangs into the juncture of Stiles’ neck; he sucks the blood into his mouth, relishing in how sweet it is. He claims him repeatedly, biting his shoulder, his chest, his arms. Stiles is his, his omega, his life; he will bear his children, sleep in his bed, and live under his protection. 

Stiles’ vision is white as his orgasm comes spiraling down. He’s done, completely wrecked, a total blathering mess. He chokes on his sobs and Derek kisses him, whispering “I love you” into the boy’s mouth. 

***

It’s been two weeks since that night, since his first heat, since Derek and the pack fucked him senseless. And now, he’s blinking at the pink plus sign of a pregnancy test with tears stinging in his eyes

Fuck. Fucking fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck. 

Omegas never conceived during their first heats, never; especially if they when they were barely sixteen. He was too young to be a father. He was still in school, and had a shot at being valedictorian. 

But he was pregnant. This was his fourth test, and the line of plus signs sitting on the counter made his stomach roll. 

All five of his packmates had fucked him without protection. 

No. He was Derek’s mate, the baby had to be his. No. No. No. 

Fuck. 

What if he wasn’t? What would he do? Would Derek force him to terminate the pregnancy? Would Derek kick out who ever the baby belonged to? Would Derek even want him? There was the possibility that he was carrying another man’s pup. 

He closed his eyes and forced himself to remain calm. Fuck. 

But what if the pup was Derek’s? Derek had never mentioned wanting kids, or even liking kids.

Stiles shuddered and gripped the pregnancy test to his chest. Fuck. Fuck. 

Fuck.


	2. Body Electric

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woot. Thanks for the feedback! Comments are more than welcome, and I like the idea of this being somewhat interactive. I am taking some suggestions of what you'd like to read.

Derek watches Stiles pace nervously around the living room, his hands touching his face, his hair, settling on his hips as he stops and turns to look at him. He opens his mouth, but shuts it; he tries again, this time a small ‘uh’ escape, because his teeth clack together. He shakes his head. 

Derek huffs impatiently, “Stiles, what is it?”

Stiles bites his lip, “Hold your horses, dude, I’m trying to find a way to say this without throwing up on your floor.”

Derek raises a brow, “Why would you throw up?”

Stiles blinks, clasping his fingers together, “Cause I’m not entirely sure how to broach this subject.”

“What subject would that be?” Derek asks, cocking his head slightly.

God dammit, he looks good. Stiles bites the inside of his cheek, feeling warmth stir below his waist, heat spreading bright red across his cheeks.

Derek chuckles, “If you want to have sex, all you have to do is ask, you know?” 

He rises and suddenly his scent is everywhere, clouding Stiles’ judgement, and he can’t think, not with Derek, his alpha, his mate, nuzzling at his throat, licking at the healed claiming mark he put there. 

“You smell good, baby,” Derek sighs, nipping at Stiles’ skin playfully. 

Stiles whines high in the back of his throat, fingers braiding into Derek’s hair, keeping him firmly in place. No. This is wrong. He was going to say something, but he can’t think, not with Derek’s alpha pheromones choking him into submission.

“Been thinking about you all day,” Derek breathes, his hands closing on Stiles’ ass. He squeezes and Stiles groans.

“Me, too,” Stiles says, and the sound of his voice, thick with lust, brings him back. “Wait. Stop.”

Derek laughs, “Why?”

“Because, I really need to talk to you,” Stiles says, trying to pry his body away from his alpha. 

“So talk,” Derek says, “I can multitask.”

Stiles shakes his head, “Please, Derek, I’m serious.”

Derek huffs, letting go, but not walking away. His eyes are annoyed, glowing red. 

“Okay, what is it?” he asks, hand circling on the small of his mate’s back. 

Stiles breathes through his nose and closes his eyes, feeling them sting. Shit. He’s never been so nervous, so scared. 

“Jesus, Stiles, what’s wrong?” Derek sounds far away, and Stiles realizes that he’s on the floor, shaking in the grips of a panic attack. “Stiles, baby, breathe. Relax. In, out. Breathe with me, baby. Come on, that’s it. Relax. I’m here, I’m right here.” Derek presses his body that much closer, closing any distance between them, Stiles’ back flat against his chest.

Stiles rattles and suddenly he’s crying. 

“Please, don’t hate me,” he sobs, and he hates himself. This isn’t who he is. This is the wolf, the omega, the bitch living inside of his soul. Stiles is ballsy and quick witted, he’s smart and mouthy, not some meek little mouse that cowers and submits in the face of authority. 

Derek presses a kiss to his temple, “Shhh, don’t say that. I could never hate you. Never.”

Stiles hears the honesty, and he believes him. “I’m pregnant.”

Everything goes still, oxygen trapped inside of Derek’s lungs. His brain short circuits for a moment, before firing back up. Heat floods his system, fire brewing in his heart. Pregnant. A baby. Stiles is pregnant with his pup. Pups! He could be pregnant with more than one! Glee detonates in his chest, going off like a firework. 

“Pregnant?” he whispers, voice soft, lovely, and Stiles relaxes in his chest.

“Yeah,” he whispers back. 

“A pup? We’re gonna have a pup?” Derek breathes, words shaking a little. He reaches around his mate, spreading his hands over his flat stomach. “A baby...”

Stiles nods, “You’re not angry?” 

Derek blinks, incredulous, smile fading, “Angry? Why would I be angry?”

Stiles swallows, hard. Is Derek actually this dense?

“Are you forgetting about what happened two weeks ago?” Stiles hazards, and Derek goes stiff.

“Fuck.”

Stiles nods solemnly. “Yeah.”

Derek locks his jaw, “It’s mine.”

Stiles frowns, turnings around in Derek’s arms. “But-”

He shakes his head, “No, Stiles, it’s mine.” Stiles blinks at him, mouth slightly opened. Derek cups his chin, “This baby, our baby...he’s mine. You’re my mate, my life. And I love you. I’m going to love this baby...”

Stiles feels his eyes sting and smiles, “I love you, too.” Their mouths touch, and the front door opens, pulling them back to reality.

“Stiles is pregnant?”

Jackson is fuming, eyes shining gold, and Isaac, Scott, and Boy follow behind him, looking equally upset. Jackson is shaking, positively trembling with rage. 

“Stand down, Jackson,” Derek growls. 

“No,” he spits. “That baby might not be yours! It could be mine! Or any of ours!” He gestures towards his packmates. 

Derek stands, stepping in front of his kneeling mate, shielding him from his pack, “That baby,” he points at Stiles, “is mine. I am your alpha, and he is my mate.”

Jackson flinches, “Would you really take that baby, even if it’s one of ours?”

Stiles heart hammers against his ribs, blood rushing in his ears. 

Derek’s growl is low and rumbles deep chest, “I’ll say this one more time, and maybe this time it’ll get through your skull. Stiles is my mate, and as your alpha, I'm staking claim on the baby he is growing.”

Jackson’s eyes burn, “That’s bullshit! You never even paid him any attention until that night! Until after you saw him with us, and you decided you wanted him!”

Stiles winces, head aching, mouth incredibly dry, pulse racing too quickly in his veins. Everything feels hot. They shouldn’t be yelling, they can talk rationally about this -

Derek scoffs, “What, like you’re any better? Pouring out your secrets to him like some love sick puppy? You think I didn’t hear you? Any of you? For ten years you’ve harbored feelings for him and not once did you make your intentions known. And you,” he fixes his gaze on Boyd, “don’t think I don’t hear when your heart speeds up whenever you look at him, or how you,” he glares at Scott, “stink of lust after your little ‘wrestling’ matches. I gave each one of you a chance to lay claims on him, to let him know how you felt, to ask to claim him, and none of you did. Instead, you fucked him and passed him along to the next. So after Boyd finished with him, and didn’t breathe a single word of his intentions, I claimed him as my own. You’re wrong if you think I haven’t wanted him since the instant I laid eyes on him.”

The room is eerily quiet and Stiles swears the ground shifts. He’d forgotten about Jackson’s admissions, hadn’t even noticed the sound of Boyd’s heart whenever they bumped into one another, or Stiles hugged him for too long. And Scott - Scott was his best friend. They weren’t supposed to want each other...

Boyd sighs, his body trembling, sadness wafting from him in waves, “You’d really throw his pup in my face?”

Derek blinks.

“It’s different with me,” Boyd says. “I don’t look like any of you. When that baby is born...you don’t think we’ll all know who’s it is when it comes out with dark skin?”

Derek swallows, “I’m sorry, Boyd. I am. But Stiles is mine, that baby is ours.”

Boyd shakes his head, eyes practically vibrating with tears, “Fuck you, Derek.”

And then he’s gone, and Stiles’ heart sinks, body going cold. He imagined his baby being born, a perfect blend of light and dark, with Boyd’s eyes and his nose. How could he face him, knowing that baby belonged to him? How could he face any of them? 

But he loved Derek, and Derek was his alpha, his mate, and he was right. His body, it belonged to him, the evidence clear with the bite on his throat. 

Scott sinks to the ground, “A baby...”

“We’ll discuss this later,” Derek says, voice level, icy. “Stiles needs to rest. Out, all of you.”

Isaac winces, hazards a look at Stiles, and smiles slightly. Isaac has a pretty smile, and pretty eyes. Jackson has perfect features, an Adonis, just like Derek. His mind is clouded. The baby could be any of their's. He could be born with blonde hair, or with dark curls, with Scott’s thick brows or his lopsided jaw. 

Stiles wills the baby to be Derek’s, not just because he loves him, but to spare his pack of watching their alpha raise their child. 

His and Derek’s baby would be beautiful, he knows it. He’d take after Derek, have his strong jaw, his dark hair, his hazel eyes. 

Those same hazel eyes are staring at him now, wide and sad. 

“Come on,” Derek breathes, lifting him onto his feet before scooping him into his arms. “Let's get you to bed.”


	3. Burning Desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it! More to come!  
> Comments always welcome and appreciated :) I love hearing what you guys want to read.

“This is bullshit!”

Jackson beats his fists into the punching bag, and the chain holding it up gives out, sending it flying against the wall. He heaves forward, falling onto his hands and knees, breath rattling in chest, vision flaring for a moment.

“Jackson, relax,” Scott says, rubbing his fingers into his temples. This was ridiculous. He was a werewolf, werewolves didn’t get headaches. 

“Don’t tell me to relax,” Jackson seethes, claws ejecting from his fingertips and into the ground. He winces at the sudden impact of concrete. “Fuck.”

Isaac chews nervously on his thumbnail, heart still racing from earlier. A baby. Stiles was pregnant. His first time having sex, and he may have knocked up Stiles. 

“We all just need to keep our heads,” Scott says. “Think rationally.”

“Rationally? There’s nothing rational about this situation!” Jackson roars, rising to his feet. “Derek’s an asshole and you’re a coward. I bet you’re relieved he’s claiming the pup, that way you won’t have to explain to Allison how you fucked you best friend and possibly got him pregnant.” He’s snarling, glaring daggers straight into Scott’s head.

“That’s not fair,” Scott frowns. “Derek’s the alpha...and Stiles...” he winces, remembering how sweet Stiles had tasted when he’d kissed him, how warm and inviting his body had been under him , “Stiles is his mate... Allison has nothing to do with this.”

Jackson laughs, “Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that, McCall, you might actually start believing it. Derek was right about one thing, you stink of lust whenever you’re around Stiles, and don’t even try to deny it.”

Scott’s heart sinks. “Shut up.”

“I should have told him...”

Boyd’s voice is soft, frail. The three weres turn to look at him, and his eyes still bright red with veins. 

“What?” Jackson snaps. 

“I should have told him how I felt,” he whispers. 

Jackson’s stomach turns, “Yeah, well, join the club. We’ve all had a thing for Stilinski...still have a thing for him...”

Isaac’s eyes bug, “If Derek hears you-”

“What, are you you going to tell him?” Jackson growls. “Huh? Maybe should I tell him to check your room so he can find Stiles’ yearbook picture hidden under your mattress?”

Isaac’s blood runs cold, “How did...”

“Doesn’t matter, just know that you’re in this too; you’re just as pathetic as McCall, trying to deny your feelings just because he belongs to someone else.” Jackson’s words are piercing, sharp and painful like a bite of venom. 

Isaac winces, retreating into the corner of the room, feeling panic swell inside of him. 

“I hope it’s mine,” Jackson snarls. “I hope the pup is mine and I can challenge Derek-”

“That’s enough!”

All four betas freeze at the sound of the intruder. Derek steps into the room, eyes shining red, reflecting the yellow hanging lights. His jaw is squared in anger and he’s breathing sharply, deeply, through his nose, chest rising with each breath.

“Enough,” he says, voice dangerously low. 

Jackson’s hands sweat, but he can’t bring himself to be scared. He’s pissed, fucking enraged. His heart feels like it’s going to burst from just looking at Derek’s face.

“Stiles is sleeping,” Derek says, eyes falling on each of his betas. “You should all know something... Werewolf pregnancies are shorter than a regular human’s. Five months. That’s all it takes for the pup to form. Just now, as I listened to Stiles fall asleep, I heard something... A heartbeat alongside Stiles’. And then I listened more closely, and I heard one more, and then another, and another.”

Jackson’s mouth goes dry; Scott feels his legs give out and he leans into Isaac’s shaking body. Boyd feels relief, because maybe there’s a chance he’ll be able to be a father to one of Stiles’ pups. 

“There are four pups growing inside of him as I speak,” Derek continues. “It’s rare, but there’s also a chance that all four pups have different fathers.”

Scott feels sadness overtake him. Four pups. One could be Derek’s, one could be Boyd’s, and Jackson’s, God knows that they want one to be theirs, and the last one could be Isaac’s. He could be the only one to not have a baby with Stiles, and the thought devastates him.

“I shouldn’t have reacted like I did,” Derek says. “I’m sorry. I felt...protective. Stiles is terrified at the thought of being pregnant so young. He’s scared of telling his father... He’s scared of disappointing me if the pup isn’t mine. So I felt cornered by you all, already trying to lay claims to my mate’s pup.”

The four betas blink at their alpha, not expecting an apology so soon, or at all. 

Derek frowns at Boyd, “I would never throw your son...or daughter in your face. Never. Any of yours. I am your alpha, and I love all of you. You’re my brothers, my family, pack. The situation isn’t ideal, but we’ll adapt. And in five months, when the pups are born, I have Deaton order a paternity test and we’ll go from there.”

The situation seems almost unreal. Four pups. Four. Jackson blushes, feeling himself get hard at the thought of Stiles swelling with child, possibly his child. He’s greedy, and he wills all four of the pups to be his.

Derek’s eyes narrow at him, and Jackson flushes, knowing he can smell how horny he is. 

“This does not change that Stiles is still my mate. If the pups aren’t mine, I’m making it clear now that Stiles still belongs to me, and if any of you,” he glares, “even attempts to challenge me for him, I will not hesitate to end you. Even if you are like brothers to me, Stiles is my mate, the person that I love and will protect with my life. Don’t forget that.”

They nod slowly, defeated. 

“In the mean time, you’ll all start experiencing overwhelming urges to be around him, to protect him. I won’t keep him from you. I’ve seen wolves lose themselves after being denied contact with the mother of their children, and I don’t want that to happen to any of you. You’ll all be assigned days when you can have alone time with him, bonding time, for a few hours.”

Glee rushes through all of them, and Scott feels guilty when he thinks about Allison. He needs to tell her...

“Thank you, Derek,” Boyd’s voice cracks. “Thank you, Alpha.”

Derek nods, locking eyes with each one of them individually before exiting the room. 

They all look at each other, unsure of what to say, if it’d be appropriate to smile, or laugh, or cry. There was hope, hope that they could be fathers, but also sadness that one of their brothers could be missing in the experience. 

“Four pups,” Boyd sighs. “Four pups... I never thought...that I could even be a father.”

Jackson snorts, “And why is that?”

Boyd shrugs, “I like boys, and until I became a werewolf, and learned that male omegas could have children, I never believed I’d be able to have one of my own.”

“You still might not,” Jackson says coldly. “We shouldn’t get our hopes up just because there’s more than one pup. There’s a chance they could all belong to Derek, he knotted him the entire night. Or that two could belong to me. Or any of you.”

They nod and suddenly they’re grinning despite themselves.

“Alone time with Stiles and the pups...that alone is good enough for me,” Boyd says, and Jackson’s heart flares at the idea of cuddling the omega against his chest, hand outstretched over his belly, feeling his heartbeat, and the pups, against his palm.


	4. Lucky Ones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to write at least 3-4 pages a night, but I'll be out of town for a couple of days and I don't know what my wifi situation is going to be, so I'll try to write some extra good stuff.
> 
> Pack bondings start next chapter :)

“I love you...”

Stiles smiles, eyes still closed, and buries himself deeper into Derek’s chest, seeking his alpha’s warmth, the security of his embrace. It pours into his bones and he sighs comfortably, feeling Derek wraps his arms securely around his shoulders, kissing the top of his gently lightly. 

“Love you, too,” he sighs sleepily, rubbing his face against Derek’s pecs, scenting him, deliriously high on the alpha’s pheromones. 

Derek chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound, “A little excited this morning, are we?”

Stiles nods, throwing his leg over Derek’s waist and straddling him, rutting against him, face still hidden in Derek’s hold. He sighs a beautiful sound, and Derek growls, hands securing around his mate’s slender hips. Stiles aligns their clothed cocks, and rubs, spinning his hips and catching just the perfect amount of friction. 

He whimpers, feeling the tip of his cock leaking already.

“So good,” Derek breathes, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, mouth slightly open when Stiles plunders forward, surprising him with a kiss. They battle for dominance, all tongues and teeth and biting, Derek’s scruff scratching Stiles’ baby-face red.

Derek doesn’t even realize that Stiles’ hands are pushing down his pajama bottoms until they’re mostly around his calves. Stiles practically purrs as he kisses down Derek’s chest, lifting his shirt to his chin, revealing a fresh canvas of beautifully muscled and tan flesh. He licks and sucks bruises into Derek’s stomach, growling in annoyance when they heal to quickly. But he can’t be bothered, not when he had feel Derek’s cock hardening against him, smell the bead of precome welling on the tip. 

Derek’s cock is thick and long and uncut; Stiles’ mouth waters, and soon his pressing tender kisses on the head, pulling back the foreskin just enough so he can lap at it hungrily, tastebuds exploding from the saltiness of his mate’s natural flavor. He groans before sucking the tip into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it and eliciting a sharp inhale from Derek. The alpha’s hips tense under Stiles’ fingers and he smiles around the cock, enjoying the full weight of it on his tongue. 

He chokes it back, letting the tip touch the back of his throat before pulling off, getting a hand around it, barely covering half of the length, and nuzzling his face into the alpha’s balls. Derek shudders at the wet feeling of Stiles’ tongue working the delicate skin, sucking one of his balls into his mouth, and then the other.

“Fuck,” he sighs, fingers clasping in Stiles’ hair. He guides Stiles back to his cock, knowing that he likes it when he’s a bit aggressive, demanding. “Up.”

Stiles blinks at him questionably, still sucking hungrily on his cock.

“I said up,” Derek repeats, reaching down until he’s flipped Stiles onto his stomach; he rubs circles into his back before holding him still. He lowers himself until he’s staring at Stiles’ perfectly bubbled cheeks. He smacks one, and Stiles moans. “What’s my name?” 

“De-Derek,” Stiles preens. 

Another slap, “Say it again.”

“De-” he gasps, Derek’s tongue buried deep in his hole, hands pushing his cheeks apart with a steel grip. “Derek!”

Derek grins wickedly, tongue spinning around and into his omega’s entrance. The taste is sweet with slick, and he can’t get enough of it.

“Derek, please, I’m ready,” Stiles gasps. “Fuck me.” He’s growling into a pillow, biting the fabric, hips thrashing restlessly in his mate’s hands as he fucks himself on his tongue. 

Suddenly Derek’s face is gone, and the cool air chills the mixture of slick and spit leaking from his entrance; he shivers, but then Derek is back, the head of his cock pushing into his nubile body. 

They finish quickly, neither having much patience. Stiles screams into his pillow when Derek’s knot locks him in place. Derek hovers for a moment, brain clouded in a cotton candy haze. He comes down, sagging on top of his mate.

“Fuck, sorry,” Derek groans. “I’ve never finished that fast.”

Stiles grunts, “S’okay.”

Derek chuckles, nuzzling in between Stiles’ shoulders. His body is warm, and if he concentrates, he can hear the unsteady beats of the pups growing inside of him.

“Stiles,” Derek breathes, dread suddenly washing over him. “We have to talk.”

Stiles shifts slightly, hazarding a look behind his shoulder, “Hm?”

“It’s about the pregnancy,” Derek says.

Stiles sighs, “I’m not telling my dad yet, Derek.”

Derek shakes his head, “It’s not that.”

Stiles furrows his brow, “Then what?’

The alpha swallows, looking away from the confused, doe eyes of his mate. “It’s about the pup.”

Stiles shudders, “Look, if it’s about the pack-”

Derek flinches, “No, it’s not about them. Well. It might be. Just listen.” They stare at each other, and Derek can hear Stiles’ heart racing with distress. No. Shit, shit, shit. “You’re...” He stops, shaking his head before just biting the bullet, “You’re pregnant with a litter.”

Stiles freezes, heart catching violently in his chest. “You wanna repeat that, big guy? I think our fucking might have given me a concussion cause I swear you just said the word ‘litter’.”

Derek groans, “Yes.”

Suddenly there’s sweat and a panicked heartbeat and Derek locks his arms around Stiles, “Shhh. Breathe. Relax.”

“Derek, what exactly does that mean, a litter?” Stiles’ voice is high, hysterical, eyes wide and bulging. 

Derek frowns, “There’s four of them.”

“Fucking-what the fuck? Four? How the-”

“I can hear them,” Derek says. “I can hear each heartbeat.”

Stiles quivers, thoughts racing. “And what are the odds that all four are yours?”

He presses a kiss onto Stiles’ shoulder, “Not very good. But it levels the odds that at least one of them is biologically mine.”

Stiles laughs, strangled, “And there’s the silver lining. How the - how the fuck could this happen? Omegas aren’t supposed to conceive during their first heat, let alone get knocked up with four pups!”

Derek holds him tighter, “I don’t know, Stiles. It’s a mystery to me too.”

Stiles furrows his brow, “What’s gonna happen to the ones that aren’t yours?” He sounds scared, like Derek will do something awful to them, send them packing with their fathers.

“They’re half you,” Derek whispers, “I’m going to love them regardless who their fathers are. I’d never...I hope you don’t think I’d keep you from the pups, or from their fathers.”

Stiles shrugs absently, remembering the argument in the living room. “You seemed pretty adamant about just that this afternoon.”

“I was upset,” Derek defends. “You’d just given me the best news of my entire life, and suddenly it was being taken away from me. I panicked. I lashed out against the pack.”

Stiles nods, smiling despite himself because Derek cares, Derek loves him, loves the pups growing inside of him. Jesus. Pups. There’s four of them. And he was having difficultly with telling his dad he was pregnant with one, now he’d have to tell him there were four, and that there was a possibility they each had a different father.

“I’ve assigned the guys days when they can have one on one time with you,” Derek says, quiet, like he’s apprehensive about it. “Bonding time with the pups, and their...mother.” The word sounds wrong, but it’s true, Stiles is growing them, he’ll carry them for five months, he’s their mother. 

Stiles huffs, “I have a dick you know.”

Derek chuckles, “It’s just a term.”

Stiles glares. 

“You set the rules,” Derek says. “My only conditions are that they can’t kiss you and no inappropriate touching.”

Stiles nods, “Of course.”

Derek winces, “If they feel they have to, and if you’re comfortable with it, I’ll allow cuddling.”

Stiles blushes, “I’ll take that under consideration. You know I love puppy piles.”

Derek rubs his face into the back of Stiles’ neck, pressing tender kisses into the skin. “I love you, Stiles.”

Stiles feels Derek’s knot soften, so he turns around, still secure in his alpha’s arms. He blinks up at him, breathless at the sight of his hazel eyes. “I love you, too.”


	5. Off to the Races

Derek knows it’s what Stiles needs, and that he’d agreed to letting his betas spend time with him, but he can’t shake the uneasiness, his jealousy. This is his mate, and the thought of someone else holding him, touching him, makes his stomach roll.

So that’s why he’s here, nursing a whiskey at a nearby bar while Boyd takes Stiles for a walk. The drink is laced with wolfsbane, giving it a kick. He hisses, feeling the alcohol sting down his throat. 

“Not much of a drinker?” 

Derek grunts, turning to the woman beside him. She’s eying him seductively, and Derek scoffs. 

“Don’t do it too often,” he says, kicking back the rest.

“Jennifer,” she says, reaching out her hand.

Derek raises a brow, “Derek.”

“Haven’t seen you around here,” she says.

“Not much a drinker,” he says. 

“Special occasion?”

Derek shakes his head, “Stress.”

“I can help with that,” she leans forward, and Derek’s stomach quivers from her scent. It’s sweet, sickly sweet, and wrong. 

“Sorry, I’m mated,” Derek says, and Jennifer frowns. 

“What’s a mated alpha doing at trashy hook up bar alone?” she asks, skeptical. 

“Extenuating circumstance,” Derek says. 

She raises a brow, “Trouble in paradise?”

Derek snorts, “Not really. Just. Complications.”

This girl doesn’t know how to take no for an answer, because she leans even closer. “You look tense, I could help sort you out. Your mate doesn’t have to know.”

Derek growls, “No, thank you. I’m fine.”

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever.”

“What kind of person goes after mated men?” Derek snaps. “Who are you to judge me for not taking your offer? I love my mate, I’d sooner take a bullet to the head than cheat on him. Why is that so difficult for you whores to understand? I came in here for a drink, I’m not looking to fuck some desperate, guiltless slut. Now, please, leave me alone and kindly let me finish my drink.”

Jennifer blinks at him, mouth open, before shaking her head. “Fuck you.”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

With that she leaves, and Derek sighs, ordering another drink. 

***

Boyd is quiet, looking at the ground shyly as he guides Stiles through the trees. 

“It’s nice out,” Stiles says, trying to break the awkwardness. “Didn’t even need to bring this sweater.” He holds out the sweater, smiling.

“I can hold that for you,” Boyd offers. 

Stiles laughs, “Dude, it’s fine. It’s like not even a pound. I’m pregnant, not an invalid.”

Boyd frowns, “I’m sorry.”

Stiles sighs, “It’s cool, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. Thank you, for offering.”

Boyd smiles, nodding. 

“So,” Stiles say. “Be honest, do you want one of the pups to be yours?”

Boyd feels his face burn. God damn, Stiles was always so blunt. “Yes.”

Stiles nods, “Do you want a boy? Or a girl?”

Boyd shrugs, “I don’t really care, I just I want them to be healthy, even if none of them are mine.”

Stiles smiles, “Any names you have in mind? I mean, I’ll take them into consideration, but since I’m carrying them, I get final say.”

Boyd laughs, “I’m fine with whatever you want.”

Stiles raises a brow, “I never knew you were this much a pushover, Boyd.”

Boyd laughs again, brighter, fuller. “Only for you, Stilinski.”

He feels his heart beat faster as the setting sun lets Stiles’ eyes on fire, lighting his delicate features. God, he’s beautiful.

“I’m sorry about what Derek said,” Stiles frowns. 

Boyd shrugs, “He apologized not long after he said it. He felt cornered, like we were trying to stake claims on not only the pup, but you, too. I can understand where he was coming from. If you were mine...I think I’d have reacted the same.”

Stiles blushes, eyes widening. “Geez, way to make a guy bashful.”

Boyd laughs, “When have you even been shy?”

Stiles laughs, “Point taken.” They walk along in silence, and Boyd nearly trips when Stiles says, “You want to see my stomach?”

“What?” Boyd blurts.

“My belly,” Stiles says. “It’s weird, it’s not flat anymore. I knew that it wouldn’t be, but it’s still strange, you know?” He starts lifting his shirt slowly, before Boyd reaches out and stops him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Boyd says.

Stiles furrows his brow, “Why not? There’s nobody around.”

“That’s not the point,” Boyd hisses.

Stiles frowns, “You don’t want to see?”   
Boyd shivers, “It’s not that I don’t want to see...it’s...you’re Derek’s mate. Only he should be able to see you...you know...half naked. It doesn’t feel right, it’ll feel like I’m betraying Derek.”

Stiles blinks, “You’re right. Jesus. This whole no filter system I’ve got going on is gonna get me into trouble one of these days.”

Boyd smiles weakly. 

***

Isaac’s heart hammers against his ribs, and his breath comes in short and sharp bursts. He clutches Stiles’ school picture closer, his right hand squeezing his cock harder until he’s coming, white hot and tingling. He bites back a moan because he doesn’t know if anyone’s home yet.

Fuck. He was so fucked. If Derek found out about this...about him jacking off daily to a picture of his mate, he’d be kicked out of the pack for sure. But he couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop. And it’s not like he’d ever make a move on Stiles, he was horny, not stupid. 

No, he’d just live with the secret in silence. 

Well...not a secret anymore since Jackson outed him to his fellow betas. He felt ashamed, like he was doing something dirty, tainting Stiles in some way. He thought back to that night, now a little over a month ago, when he was buried inside of his, cock so burning hot in Stiles’ tight, welcoming heat. He couldn’t believe what was happening, that he was actually fucking Stiles, that he’d kissed Stiles, and he’d kissed him back.

He brought his clean hand to his mouth, tracing his lips, remembering the ghost of that kiss, his first kiss. 

***

Jackson waits impatiently in the foyer until he heard the sounds of Stiles’ laughter. He checks his watch and scowled. 

Boyd holds the door open and Stiles steps through, smiling.

“Oh, hey, dude,” Stiles says, hanging up his sweater.

Jackson nods, “Hey. Uh, Derek’s in your guys’ room.”

Stiles nods, “Cool. Thanks.” Stiles turns around and smiles at Boyd. “Today was fun. Let’s make it a tradition.” He leaned forward and hugs the taller man, and Boyd feels his heart take off. 

Stiles skips past Jackson, “See you tomorrow.” 

Jackson smiles tightly and nods before turning to glare at Boyd. 

“What the fuck?” he hissed, and Boyd frowned. “Two hours, that’s what Derek said. You’ve been gone for three.”

Boyd shrugged, “Stiles wanted ice cream.”

“So? It’s not fair,” Jackson says. “I’m going to talk to Derek.”

“Go ahead, I didn’t have anything to do with it. Stiles wanted to go get ice cream but didn’t want anything from a drive thru.”

Jackson narrows his eyes, “Whatever.”

***

Derek feels himself relax when Stiles steps into the room.

“I’m home,” Stile sings, dropping onto the bed.

Derek gets up from his desk and lays down beside him, “I can see that.” He smiles, resting his hands on his mate’s hips before nuzzling close, pressing soft kisses against his brow. “I missed you.”

Stiles smiles, “Missed you, too. What’d you do all day?”

Derek shrugs. “I went to Full Moon.”

“That skanky bar?” Stiles frowns. He leans forward, scenting Derek. 

“What are you doing?”

Stiles shakes his head, “I can’t smell anyone else on you, so I guess you can live.”

Derek frowns, “Do you honestly think I’d cheat on you?”

“No, I trust you, but I’m not stupid. Look at you, you’re six feet of hunky muscle and sex, I wouldn’t be surprised if every beta whore in the bar didn’t try to make a move on you or lay any unwanted touches on you.”

Derek nods, “There were a couple. But I told them to fuck off.”

“Good,” Stiles smiles. “Now...I’ve been horny all day, so I think it’s time you take your pants off and let me blow you.”

Derek laughs, “Subtle.”

Stiles shakes his head, “Nope, I’m horny and need your cock. Also, if you hadn’t already smelled it, I’ve been slicking my underwear since I scented you and I need the cream filling.”

Derek frowns, “You’re so vulgar.”

Stiles smiles and leans forward, kissing Derek quiet. “Please, Derek. I need you.”

Stiles rides Derek slowly that night, and Derek, because he’s frustrated and jealous, makes him scream, knowing that the rest of the pack can hear Stiles’ voice break as he cries out his name, whispering nonsensical slurs about his perfection.


End file.
